


A Feeling That I Can't Fight

by lilacpages, shutupluke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bartender Calum, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Established Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampire Ashton, Vampire Michael, we'll add more tags as the fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8438977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacpages/pseuds/lilacpages, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupluke/pseuds/shutupluke
Summary: Michael and Ashton have an unmistakable allure to them and a routine that dates back centuries. Calum's just a simple bartender who's heard a few things about vampires. Or, Calum lets a stranger with a boyfriend buy him drinks, and eventually all three of them get more than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here!! Megan and I were originally just gonna post this whenever we finished writing, but then she realized it's perfect for Halloween, so in honor of October 31st, here's our joint Halloween fic!! 
> 
> This entire thing was spun from [this](http://lilacpages.tumblr.com/post/146584986438/poisonpencil-mashlum-beat-the-mitey-drum) post and the complete lack of chill that both Megan and I possess. 
> 
> We'll be alternating writing each chapter, so chapter one was written by Megan, and chapter two will be written by me, and so on.
> 
> Title is from Daylight by 5sos (bc we're trash).

This may be the worst shift Calum has ever worked. 

In all his four years as a bartender, he has never had to deal with the sheer volume of orders coming in left right and centre, let alone serving all of these people by himself. He can only make one damn drink at a time, and there are about thirty fucking people glaring at him from the queue while he pulls pint after pint after pint. There's not even a waitress around to help him, and his coworker had just gone out the back for a fag break because it had ‘looked pretty quiet’. Yeah, that was ten minutes ago, and approximately eight minutes ago what looked like every fucking fresher in the city exploded into the club, sweaty teenagers with loud voices suddenly packing the place. Fuck Calum’s entire life. He’s pouring shots furiously, the till in complete overdrive with the sheer number of times Calum has to set up tabs and process orders and give people £17 change for a £3 cocktail. 

He’s probably midway through the queue when Chris finally saunters back in, immediately taken aback by the amount of customers and probably the crazed look in Calum’s eyes. “Fucking Halloween,” Chris grumbles, and Calum would smash a wine glass on his head if he wasn't so conscious that they would probably run out if they didn't wash some soon. 

“Help me,” Calum responds, gritting his teeth to contain his rage. There are still more people joining the goddamn queue, and Calum’s one Malibu and diet Pepsi away from a mental and physical break down. He should be getting paid way more for this shit. Chris steps in, the line splits in two and a few drinks later, everybody is happy. Everybody except Calum, who is legitimately dead and therefore unable to feel anything at all. 

Chris whistles.“Fuck me, that was frantic. You okay mate?” 

“Wonderful.” Calum states, sighing with relief as he collapses to the floor. He sits with his back against the fridge, eyes closed, breathing like a marathon runner. “Just let me sit for a minute, I’ll be good to go after this.” 

“What are you drinking?” calls an unfamiliar voice. Calum opens his eyes, and what he sees convinces him he’s actually died. 

It’s a boy, a beautiful boy with sparkling green eyes and bleach blonde hair almost as light as his fair, practically paper-white skin. Calum isn't sure exactly what the boy is dressed up as, if he even is dressed up, but if Calum had to guess he would probably go for ‘vampire’. The all black look is working for him, either way.

Calum stands up. “Me?” 

The boy nods and Calum walks over to him, leaning his forearms on the bar for support (and also to show off his muscles a little bit. Or a lot). “I’m not drinking anything. I’m at work.” 

The boy rolls his eyes fondly. “I know, I just saw you deal with the millions of kids who just walked in, and I figured after that you would probably need a drink. So, what are you drinking?” 

Calum flounders a little. First of all, the boy is probably a ‘kid’ himself, at least he looks no older than twenty. Second, though, he really does need a fucking drink, even if it’s one he’ll have to make himself because he’s the fucking bartender. So, screw it.

“Uh, I guess Jack and Coke,” Calum replies. 

The boy grins, and turns to Chris, batting his eyelashes flirtatiously. “Great. One Jack and Coke and three Jägerbombs then, please.” 

Chris looks at Calum, obviously flustered, but Calum offers him no more consolation than a shrug. “He’s the customer, man. Do what he says.” 

“Are you paying now or do you want me to set you up with a tab?”

“Uh, a tab please,” the boy replies distractedly. He looks at Calum, eyes glinting mischievously. He leans forwards, moving further into Calum’s space. “Do what I say, huh? That's interesting. So if I told you to come and dance with me, you’d do that too?” 

Calum can’t help but laugh. The boy is cheeky, he’ll give him that much. “Doesn't quite work like that, I'm afraid.” 

The boy bites his lip, very blatantly checking Calum out, and sighs. “Pity. You look like you’d make a great dancing partner.”

Chris set the drinks down in front of the boy with an audible slamming noise. “There we go, three Jägerbombs and a Jack and coke.” 

“All of those drinks for you?” Calum asks, eyebrow raised.

“No, uh—they're for my … friends.” The boy looks like he’s been brought abruptly back down to earth. He turns quickly in the direction of two other men standing a little ways off. One of them is dressed all in black as well, but the other looks to be wearing some sort of angel costume. 

He blinks, steps back from the bar and clears his throat. “You’re working, I should leave you alone. I hope you enjoy your drink,” he says, and then he walks away.

“Oh, okay. Thank you!” Calum calls. 

Chris raises his eyebrows. “Well, that was fucking weird.” 

“Ah come on, it was sweet!” Calum argues, oddly defensive.

Chris scoffs. “You're just saying that because you want to bone him.” 

“I mean... maybe a little,” Calum admits begrudgingly. His eyes flicker over to the drink he’d just been bought. “But you’d be thanking him if you were the one with the free drink.” 

Chris follows his gaze. “I totally spat in that, by the way.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“I'm kidding! God, you really could do with a drink.” 

Calum grabs the glass, holds it up to Chris with his eyebrow raised as if to say ‘happy now?’, and then gulps down almost half of it in one go. He coughs a little as the whiskey burns his throat, wipes the sticky residue from his mouth onto the back of his hand and shakes his head to settle himself.

“Woah, okay.” Calum exhales. “You mix a strong ass drink.” 

“You're welcome.” 

And then a customer approaches, and it's business as usual. The drink may have been strong, but Calum’s too much of a heavy weight to really be affected by the alcohol. The buyer of said alcohol? Well, that's a different matter altogether. Calum searches for him when he has a free moment but with the crowds of people it’s a haystack vs needle situation. 

Even that moment is interrupted by a customer. Fucking Halloween. 

“Um, excuse me? Could I get uh—two Jägerbombs and a … sex on the beach?” Calum grits his teeth but turns, painting a grin on. The customer is actually pretty cute. He's taller than Calum, which is saying something, with dirty blonde hair and these piercing blue eyes. He’s got a golden halo headband nestled precariously amongst his curls, and Calum notices a pair of feathery wings when he turns slightly and hits the person next to him in the queue. 

“Sure thing,” Calum replies, and then he starts to mix the drinks. It feels oddly like deja-vu when he puts the drinks down on the bar, and that's when it hits him. “Hey, you don't happen to be friends with a blonde guy, do you? Tall—well relatively,” he tacks on as the boy straightens up. “Pale as fuck? Dressed all in black?”

The boy grins. “Michael? Well, I wouldn't say friends, but yeah, I know him. Hopefully I’ll know him very fucking well by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.” Calum laughs at the crassness. Yeah, he gets that completely. 

“So the third guy is just a third wheel?” Calum asks. “Yikes, that sucks. I’ve been there.” 

The boy giggles. “Not exactly? If anything it’s me who’s the third wheel, but I don't think they mind.” 

Calum gets it. “Oh! Oh, okay. Good luck with that then, dude.” 

“Cheers,” he replies, grabbing the drinks awkwardly and then walking away. 

Calum watches this time as he slinks into one of the black leather booths. As soon as he sits down, somebody whose face Calum can't see pulls the drinks out of his hands and then takes his face between their hands and kisses him. Or at least, that's what Calum assumes happens. 

Calum feels a bit like a creeper as he moves to get a better look into the booth—he's curious, sue him—but it’s not like they're going to see him. The boy who got the drinks is still being vigorously kissed and now Calum can see that the other guy, the one who hasn't come to the bar, is actually palming at his dick. Wonderful. If they get jizz on the seats Calum is not fucking cleaning it. Michael must be on the other side of the booth, the side that Calum can't see at all from where he's standing behind the bar.

The boy in the angel costume shuffles back and Calum sees the face of the boy who he’d been kissing. It's another extremely attractive face, which doesn't particularly shock him any more. The lighting is distorting the boy’s—well, this one looks like a man, actually—face, to the point where Calum can't tell what colour his eyes and his hair are, but he can tell that he's fucking beautiful. Like, chiselled jaw and cut cheekbones and hair slicked back, and he's wearing what looks like a suit jacket and a black dress shirt buttoned all the way up, and he's got what Calum hopes is fake blood splattered on the left side of his face. 

He reaches for the shot left on the table and throws it back, and his face contorts into a wince. Calum notices the second empty glass and realizes that Michael must have drank his already. The boy with the blood on his face says something and laughs, eyes squinting, and the boy in the Angel costume throws his head back too, so it must have been Michael that said something funny. Calum feels super fucking creepy, but not so much so that he's going to like, stop watching. 

Chris stops serving and turns to him. “Calum, what the fuck, dude? You're just staring at some random guys!” 

Calum scoffs, averting his eyes momentarily but making no move away from the spot where he can see clearly. “Random _cute _guys, Chris.”__

“You're lucky they're not looking or you’d definitely be getting sued for sexual harassment.” 

“Okay, ogling from afar is not sexual harassment.” Chris makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s not! They're just cute and I'm very, very single.” 

“N’awwwwww, does Cally want a boyfriend?” Chris (married for three years, Chris) coos. 

“Cally would happily take a one night stand, at the moment,” Calum sighs bitterly.

“Well there are three of them, right? You could definitely make it four.” 

Calum frowns. “Don’t be weird.” 

“That's not weird! That's efficient.” 

“I'm not gonna ask if I can join their threesome, who do you think I am?”

“A desperate slut,” Chris deadpans—which is admittedly fair.

“I mean … maybe. But they don't know that.” 

“Yet,” Chris offers, and Calum rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Customer,” he says, and that's the end of it. Or at least, that should be the end of it.

It just so happens that the customer in question is actually Michael, again, and he bounds over to the bar with a kind of childish, earnest enthusiasm. It's pretty cute, if Calum's being honest. 

“More of the same, please—another two Jägerbombs.” Calum turns to Chris and offers him a look that he hopes conveys both ‘please do it’ and also ‘please save me’.

“You know, here's a thought,” Calum says grandly, “you could maybe buy multiple shots at once so you don't have to keep on coming back up here.” 

Michael smirks. “Ah, but then I’d miss out on seeing your pretty face, and that's not what we want at all, is it?” 

Calum just blushes.

“Luke tells me you were asking about me. Not jealous, are you?” he continues. So the Angel boy’s name is Luke, Calum makes a mental note. 

Calum shrugs. “Well, you know. It’s not that often I meet anybody as cute as you, especially not when I'm working.” 

“That’s sweet,” Michael smiles softly. “And you know my name, but I don't know yours—and that doesn't seem very fair to me.” 

“It’s Calum.” 

“Calum,” he says, smiling again. “Well, Calum, I just wanted to ask you whether you’ll be working tomorrow night?” 

“Um, no, I won't be. Why?” 

“Well tonight I’m … otherwise occupied, but I was wondering if I could maybe buy you a few more drinks tomorrow when you're off the clock?”

“Oh, okay! Yes, okay, sure. Okay,” Calum stammers, knocked off guard by this proposition. 

“Great. So I’ll see you here tomorrow? At like, eight?” 

“Yeah, okay. Eight is fine, eight is great,” Calum grins enthusiastically.

Chris puts the shots down on the bar and shoots Calum a look that tells him he’d overheard the entire exchange and wants to talk about it later. 

“Okay. I'll see you then, Calum.” Michael grabs the drinks and makes his way over to their booth. 

Without even looking at him, Calum knows that Chris is pulling a sleazy face. “Shut up,” Calum tells him preemptively, and ignores his shouts of protest. 

~

It’s probably only half an hour later when Calum sees the three guys exit their booth. He watches as Michael grabs the hand of the guy with the bloody face, watches them exchange small, meaningful smiles, and then he sees Luke wrap his arm around Michael’s waist. As they walk past the bar Michael looks to him, dropping the hand of the bloody faced guy and waving at Calum almost sheepishly. 

“See you tomorrow, Cal,” he says, and the nickname kind of sends shivers down Calum’s spine. 

The three halt momentarily, and the guy with the bloody face offers Calum a tentative smile, but places his hand on Michael’s shoulder as if to claim him in the same instant. 

Well. Message received. 

Luke discreetly shoots Calum two thumbs up, and Calum smiles to himself and offers the boy a salute, calling ‘good luck!’ after him. He’s probably going to need it, coming in the middle of Michael and his boyfriend. 

The night dies down, and before Calum knows it, it's 2am and his shift is up. He clocks off and sets off home, ready to sleep for probably a billion years, and hopefully wake up ready for the date he has tomorrow night with a boy with a boyfriend. 

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so incredibly excited to post this chapter and it's finally here! This one's about 5.7k. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> \- Michelle
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains minor violence, mentions of blood and a minor character death, so pls be careful babes!

Even with all the fluorescent multi-coloured lights flashing across the boy’s face, Michael can still see that the bartender is beautiful. It’s nothing compared to when he was up close earlier, but it’s enough to satisfy him as he admires the boy from afar. He’s weirdly fixated on him tonight, has been since he and Ashton first stepped foot in the place. He’d love to take the boy home, and it’s a real shame, because he and Ashton have already got a third body for the night—a blonde haired, blue-eyed _literal_ angel who, ironically, is talking to the bartender right at this very moment. Michael watches the boy’s fake wings bounce a little behind his back, a ridiculous, but undeniably cute part of his costume.

An _angel_. Michael laughs quietly to himself. It’s fitting, and so perfectly ironic that that’s what the boy chose to dress up as for Halloween, considering the things him and Ashton’ll be doing to him in just a few short hours.

“What’s taking Luke so long?” across the booth, his boyfriend, Ashton, grumbles quietly. On top of the table, his hands curl into fists, and Michael notices. 

“What’s got you so antsy tonight?” he questions with a raised eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

Ashton sighs. “I’m fine. I’m just hungry is all.” And then he lowers his voice and leans towards Michael. “He smells so fucking good, Mike. How much longer are we gonna be here?”

Michael chuckles and rubs Ashton’s shoulder soothingly. “Not long, babe. Give him a few more drinks and then we’ll go. Promise.”

Ashton smacks his teeth and leans back with a sigh. Michael gets it. He’s antsy too. It’s been a month, after all. But right now, he’s too excited about the attractive bartender to really be bothered by his hunger. 

“So I think I may have found another one for tonight,” he tells Ashton with barely concealed excitement behind his words. 

Ashton raises his eyebrows, a smirk forming around the corners of his lips. “Another one? Mike, you know one is more than enough.” 

“I know, but—” Michael cuts himself off, realizing he doesn’t have any substantial arguments to offer. He plays dirty. “I _really_ want him, Ash,” he whines, drawing the ‘really’ out like he’s a five year old begging a parent for a new toy to play with. Though, when he thinks about it, that’s essentially what he’s asking for.

Ashton rolls his eyes fondly, but it’s clear from his body language in the next instant, when he sits up and folds his hand together on top of the table, that his word is final. 

“Not tonight, Mike. Let’s just focus on Luke, okay? We can file this other guy away for another time.”

Michael pouts a little, but otherwise doesn’t protest. At least it wasn’t a flat out ‘no’. 

Luke comes back to the table then with an armful of drinks, but before he can even properly sit down, Ashton is pulling the glasses from his hands and pressing their lips together messily. Michael watches as a little grin spreads across Luke’s face in between Ashton’s fierce kisses. He sees Ashton’s hand wander over Luke’s thigh, and then over his crotch and he just rolls his eyes. Time has made Ashton forget about subtlety. 

Eventually the two pull away in favor of the alcohol laid out before them, and the three of them start up an easy conversation. When their glasses are empty once more, Michael quickly volunteers to get refills, eager for a reason to talk to the cute bartender again. Ashton shoots him a half amused, half unamused smile before Michael bounds up to the bar. 

He’s got a plan, and he doesn’t care that Ashton will reprimand him for it. So what if they’ve already got someone for the night? Michael appreciates good looking men, and it’s not a crime to buy someone a drink. Besides, Ashton _did_ say they could file the boy away for another time, though by that he probably meant in at least a few weeks. But Michael’s impatient, and the boy behind the bar has strangely captured his attention—so sue him. Ashton never gets truly angry at Michael anymore anyways. They’ve been together too long now to be anything other than mellow with each other. 

At the bar, he asks the boy—Calum, he learns is his name—out for the next night, and when he accepts, Michael walks back to his booth with an ecstatic smile on his face. 

About a half hour later, the three of them stand up to leave. Michael reaches for Ashton’s hand and finds a small smile on his boyfriend’s face when he turns around, along with a mischievous glint in his eyes, one that Michael mirrors. As they pass by the bar, Michael feels a tiny twinge of longing shoot through him at the sight of Calum, but Luke’s arm wrapped around his waist is a reminder of what’s about to come, and his stomach starts to churn with excitement. 

***

The cab ride home is a blur for Luke. He’s got two absolutely gorgeous guys all over him and his head is spinning from all the attention. The bright lights of the city are whizzing past him out the windows, but he can’t focus on them at all like he normally would, not with Michael’s mouth dragging along his neck and Ashton’s hand warm on his thigh, inching ever closer to where he really wants it to be. 

He barely even registers the moment they arrive at an apartment complex, until Michael’s lips suddenly disappear and he feels Ashton’s hand grip his own to pull him out of the cab a little roughly. He’s fighting a smile the entire way up to Michael and Ashton’s apartment and though it’s only a short trip up one flight of stairs, he wishes he could have Michael’s lips back on him the whole time. 

He doesn’t have to wait long at all though, because once they stop in front of a door and Ashton begins to fumble in his coat pocket for his keys, Michael’s gripping Luke by the back of the neck and connecting their lips. 

It’s dizzying, kissing Michael. It makes Luke feel like he’s lost control of his body, completely held prisoner by the lure of the beautiful boy. But he doesn’t get to enjoy Michael’s kisses for more than a few seconds before the metal of Ashton’s keys jingles in his ears, and Ashton’s hand is once again tugging him along behind him. 

The grip Ashton has on Luke’s wrist is firm, fingers digging in lightly, but it doesn’t faze Luke. He kind of likes it actually. He could tell that Ashton was impatient back at the club, and from the few hours he spent with the man before, with his back to Ashton’s chest and strong fingers gripping his hips as they grinded together on the dance floor, he knows Ashton likes to be in control. 

Luke doesn’t even have time to take in any of his surroundings as he’s pulled through the doorway, Michael close behind him. His face falls a little at him and Michael being interrupted once again, but the expression is quickly replaced with surprise when Ashton hoists Luke up into his arms. He’s forced to wrap his legs around Ashton’s waist to keep from falling, but Ashton’s hands come to grip the underside of his thighs in the next second, his grip completely solid. Ashton carries Luke down the hallway of his and Michael’s apartment with ease, like Luke weighs absolutely nothing. It’s pretty impressive in Luke’s eyes, considering his height and build don’t really make him _small_. He shoots Ashton an amused little smile, one that the other man returns with a wink. 

Ashton pushes a door open with his hip and suddenly Luke is being tossed down onto a massive bed. He feels small laying on it, and once again, he’s impressed. The room itself is huge too, obviously the master bedroom, and Luke feels overwhelmed for the briefest moment. 

The feeling passes when he sees Michael move into the room out of the corner of his eye, already tugging his shirt off. His eyes are drawn to the incredibly pale skin of Michael's exposed stomach, but Ashton crowds into his space before he has a chance to see any more. 

His mouth is on Luke’s neck then, breath hot and tongue slick, darting out to taste him with each kiss. Luke’s skin tingles and his stomach stirs pleasantly at the sensation. He lets out a little breath before Ashton starts biting gently at his neck. 

He’s moving slowly down to his collarbones, each bite getting slightly harsher as he goes. Luke’s done this sort of thing before, but there’s something about the way Ashton is working him, the way he’s practically _worshipping_ his neck right now, that has Luke’s blood pumping hard through his veins. He hopes Ashton can’t feel it when he presses his lips to the skin.

When Ashton reaches the base of Luke’s neck, he moves back up, letting his lips and the tip of his nose drag softly up the column of Luke’s throat. He inhales deeply as he does it, letting out a breath of what Luke swears can only be described as pure satisfaction afterwards. With a deep groan, Ashton quickly tears himself away from Luke’s neck and shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss Luke’s mouth instead. 

Michael chuckles beside them, and it’s only then that Luke feels the bed dip next to him. He turns his head to see Michael settling in on his knees, a bottle of lube and a couple condoms beside him, with his fist tugging lazily at his half-hard cock.

The view that Ashton had interrupted earlier is now presented to Luke once again, and he’s hit with it full force. Michael is _beautiful_ to look at. There’s the faintest glow to his skin where he’s so pale, and his body is soft, inviting—a stunning contrast to Ashton’s hard muscle. Luke thinks that if they’d let him, he’d be more than happy to trace his fingertips over the lines of their bodies forever. 

“Eager, Ash?”

“Fuck off,” Ashton replies, though he looks over at Michael with a stupidly fond smile. There’s a hint of something more, something unspoken that only the two of them understand, that flashes between their eyes suddenly, but it’s gone before Luke can dwell on it. 

Michael just smirks playfully at Ashton, and Ashton lifts himself away from Luke to pull Michael in for a kiss. 

Michael deepens it immediately, and Luke is left to simply watch the two men kiss above him. He’s certainly not complaining though. Michael and Ashton kiss filthily, but there’s something more to it, something _loving._ Ashton’s hand is firm beneath Michael’s jaw, keeping him under his control as his tongue licks across Michael's bottom lip and into his mouth, but his thumb is also caressing Michael's cheek softly as they kiss. Luke simply gazes, mesmerized. The way Michael gives himself wholeheartedly to Ashton is almost too private to watch, even though Luke can't tear his eyes away. It makes him wonder how long you have to be with someone to feel that utterly comfortable. 

When they finally pull away from each other, Luke's just as breathless as they are. His shoulders relax as he exhales the air he hadn't realized he'd been holding while he watched. Ashton reaches for the hem of his shirt then, and lifts it above his head while Michael sets to making quick work of Luke’s clothes as well. Soon there’s a haphazard pile of clothing on the floor and three naked men on the massive bed. 

Ashton grips the backs of Luke’s thighs suddenly and pulls him forward, so that instead of being slightly leaned up against the pillows, he’s completely on his back. The movement is so quick and so _effortless_ that Luke is momentarily dazed by it. He wonders again just how strong Ashton really is. Luke directs his surprise up at Michael, and Michael just chuckles and leans down to kiss him again. 

Luke pulls away slightly in the midst of their kissing to glance at Ashton as he pushes his thighs open and brings his lips to the skin. His fingers dig in a little roughly as he holds Luke’s legs open, but his kisses are soft where he’s scattering them. Luke’s small breaths are swallowed up when Michael grips his chin lightly and brings their lips together again. His fingers skim lightly down Luke’s chest to wrap around his hardening cock, and Luke sighs softly at the warmth.

Michael starts to move his hand slowly, and with both of them now working on him, Luke lets himself melt into their collective touch. Ashton’s hand is rubbing over Luke’s thigh, inching slowly down between his legs at the same time that Michael’s kisses are starting to move down his chest. Luke’s hand comes up to rest on Michael’s head, fingers threading gently through the soft hair while his hips buck up slightly. Ashton is biting his thighs every so often, sharp little nips here and there that have Luke’s breath coming short. 

When Michael’s head is situated right above his hip, his lips dangerously close to his leaking cock, Ashton’s thumb moves to rub over Luke’s hole teasingly. Luke inhales a sharp breath and seconds later, Michael licks along the length of Luke’s cock, slow and controlled, and Luke chokes out a “please”. 

“Mike,” Ash grunts, and he doesn’t even have to finish his sentence before Michael is doing as he asks. 

He lifts his head away from Luke’s cock, smiling at Luke’s little noise of protest, and reaches behind himself for the lube. He hands it to Ashton and immediately goes back to his previous task, taking the head of Luke’s cock into his mouth and sucking softly. 

Luke doesn’t even register the noise of the bottle cap opening, not with Michael’s sinful red lips wrapped around him. Michael quickly relaxes his throat to take a little more, and Luke’s fingers involuntarily tighten their grip on his bleached blonde locks. 

Ashton’s thumb is still rubbing small circles over Luke’s hole, but it disappears for an instant, replaced by Ashton’s lube-slicked pointer finger the next second. He tenses for just a moment before Ashton pushes his finger in gently, but Michael moves a little further down his cock, swirling his tongue as he does it, so Luke is pleasantly distracted. His back arches slightly and Ashton’s free hand rubs soothingly over his hip. 

Luke squirms and wriggles beneath the two men. He can feel Ashton’s finger moving inside him, and Michael’s tongue pressed firm against the underside of his dick, and it makes his chest heave. It’s like they can _command_ his body, the way they’re coaxing moans and gasps out of him so easily, making his body writhe with just the simplest of touches. Michael finally pulls off of Luke’s cock to breathe just as Ashton starts to push a second finger into Luke. His lips are wet with spit and it only serves to bring out the colour in them. His eyes meet Ashton’s briefly and in the next second, like some magnetic force is actually _pushing_ them towards each other, they lean in to kiss, right next to Luke’s cock. 

Ashton’s tongue dips into Michael’s mouth, filthy and passionate, and pulls a soft moan from him. Luke’s dick twitches beside them at that, and the whole thing is so obscene that he has to drop his head back to the pillows to stop watching. As a result, he misses it when they turn their attention back to him, and he gasps in surprise when Ashton’s fingers start moving again and Michael’s mouth returns to his dick. 

Luke is positively in a haze for the next little bit. He simply lies back, watching Michael and Ashton touch him and admiring the both of them. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something ethereal about both of them, and paired together as they are now, working in perfect harmony, Luke can’t even hope to think straight. Ashton adds a third finger once Luke is stretched enough, and Michael moves back up Luke’s chest to kiss his lips, hand wrapping around his cock once again to resume his unhurried motions. Luke whines when Ashton’s fingers suddenly disappear from his hole, and he looks at Ashton for some sort of explanation. 

“Turn over. All fours for us, baby,” Ashton says, voice just the slightest bit husky, and dripping with subtle authority. A spark shoots through Luke’s stomach at the sound of it. 

He scrambles to follow the command, rolling over onto his stomach and reluctantly away from the easy access to Michael’s mouth. An inkling of disappointment washes over him momentarily, and it makes him pause for a second, struck by the realization of the effect they both have on him. The entire night, Luke has felt this odd, overwhelming urge to be close to both of them at the same time, and when that hasn’t been possible, the same inkling of disappointment has washed over him every time. He has no idea what’s going to happen after tonight, but he knows with absolute certainty that he won’t ever forget the two men surrounding him at this moment. 

His reverie is interrupted by Ashton’s strong hands gripping his thighs and hauling him back towards him, further down the bed. Luke falls to the sheets for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly returns to his hands and knees. Michael shuffles forward to take up the newly freed space in front of Luke, reaching a hand out to cup Luke’s cheeks softly as Ashton reaches for one of the condoms laying off to the side of the mattress. 

The sound of Ashton rolling the condom on reaches Luke’s ears from behind him, and his heart races for a second. Ashton grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes some onto his fingers, slicking himself up before his hands return, settling soft and gentle on his hips this time, and Luke momentarily feels the breath escape his lungs. He instinctively leans into Michael’s touch, and Michael must sense his need for something to ground him in that moment, because he gently lifts Luke’s chin the next second. Michael meets his eyes, and there’s a comforting smile on his face, his eyes silently telling Luke that he’s safe with both of them. Luke believes it with all his heart. 

Ashton’s cock nudges Luke’s hole briefly before he speaks. 

“Ready, Luke?” Ashton squeezes his hip gently and Luke nods, eyes still locked with Michael’s. 

Ashton pushes in slowly after that, and Luke’s mouth opens around a small, breathless, “oh”. He drops his head from Michael’s caress, leaning down to rest his weight on his forearms instead as the breath pours out of him slowly at the stretch. Ashton’s chest rumbles with a deep groan, his eyes closed and a small smile playing at his lips. He gives a little chuckle as he bottoms out, and pauses there to let Luke adjust. 

Michael gently pushes Luke’s hair back from his face and moves his hands to rub soothingly over Luke’s shoulders. Ashton’s hand comes up to rub Luke’s back softly, and their combined caress is enough to relax Luke. After a brief moment, he angles his head to look back at Ashton and nods, prompting him to continue.

Ashton pulls his hips back, drawing a soft sigh from Luke, and pushes forward slowly once more. Luke moans, and his body tingles slightly with the spark of pleasure that shoots through him. It makes him smile with content. Ashton does it a couple more times, and the slow, torturous drag of his cock ignites a burning desire for more all of a sudden.

Luke whines and looks back over his shoulder at Ashton, sticking his ass out slightly as he does it. Ashton smirks at him and moves his hand from Luke’s hip to his ass, squeezing it between his fingers for a moment before he readjusts his grip on Luke’s waist. He starts to pick up his pace and Luke subconsciously starts to push back on Ashton’s dick, moans falling from his lips with no resistance at all. 

Luke turns his attention back to Michael as the rhythmic sound of Ashton’s hips slapping against the skin of Luke’s ass starts to reverberate around the room. He had been simply watching, eyes slightly widened and lips parted, while his fist moved on his cock. A small bead of precum at the tip of Michael’s dick catches Luke’s eye, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to taste Michael. He pushes himself up onto his hands again and swats Michael’s hand away from himself, replacing it with his own for a brief moment. He gives Michael’s dick a gentle squeeze before bringing his lips to it and licking modestly across the tip. 

Michael groans softly and reaches out to tangle his fingers in Luke's hair. It sends another tingle through Luke, and he glances up at Michael with purposefully wide and innocent eyes before he takes him into his mouth. He closes his lips around Michael’s cock and sucks hard, pressing his tongue against the vein running through the shaft. Michael's fingers curl gently in Luke's hair, and the slight pressure has Luke on edge, the knowledge that Michael could yank his head back at any moment going straight to his dick. 

With his slightly awkward position and Ashton’s tight grip on his hips preventing him from moving any further than an inch away while he fucks him, Luke can only reach his lips about a quarter of the way down Michael’s cock. He tries to bring his hand up to wrap around the part he can’t get to with his mouth, shifting his body weight to rest entirely on his left arm, but it proves harder than he originally thought. Ashton has worked out a rhythm that isn’t too erratic, but his thrusts are hard, and it makes Luke’s body shake and jolt forward unsteadily. 

He’s more so just letting Michael fuck his fist, letting the force of Ashton’s thrusts push Michael’s cock into his hand instead of actually jerking him off. He pulls off of Michael’s cock to breathe and his hand falls quickly back to the mattress. Luke welcomes the stability and the weight being taken off his now trembling left elbow, and bows his head in between laboured breaths. 

Michael notices the difficulty Luke’s having, and after letting him catch his breath, he gently lifts Luke’s chin to look at him. There’s a reassuring smile on his face, and when he speaks, it’s with a soft and comforting voice. 

“It’s okay. Let me do the work, alright?”

Luke has a pretty good idea of what that means, and he’s more than willing to let Michael have his way if that’s what he’s referring to. He gives a sure little nod of his head and his gaze flickers down to Michael’s cock briefly before meeting his eyes again. He opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, an invitation which Michael immediately takes. He shuffles his weight on his knees a bit before gripping the base of his cock and angling it carefully back into Luke’s mouth. His hand comes around to grip the back of Luke’s neck, the other one holding his cheek again, and he slowly pushes forward until the head of his dick brushes the back of Luke’s throat, until he gags just the slightest bit. 

Michael’s fingers are warm on the back of Luke’s head, threaded through the hairs at the nape of his neck, and Luke is grateful for the contact. He braces himself, relaxes his throat as best he can as Michael pulls out to move forward again. Luke doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but Michael moves forward at the same time as Ashton, and Luke gags again when Ashton’s thrust pushes him even further onto Michael’s cock. Spit dribbles down Luke’s chin, and he breathes deeply through his nose as he looks up at Michael. 

The reaction from Michael is definitely worth the effort Luke’s putting in, and the mess he’s becoming in the process. His eyes are watering at the corners, but Michael is squeezing his eyes shut, red lips parted around breathless little whines, fingers flexing their grip intermittently in Luke’s hair. It brings a heat to Luke’s stomach, knowing he’s the reason Michael is making those beautiful noises. 

Behind him, Ashton is skimming his fingers over Luke’s back absentmindedly, slowly sucking in deep breaths and releasing them with quiet groans as his hips move against Luke. It’s just as beautiful a sound as Michael is making, Luke thinks. 

Suddenly, Luke’s body jolts as Ashton hits his prostate. He cries out around Michael’s cock in his mouth, spluttering as Michael moans at the vibrations. He grips Luke’s hair tighter and Ashton adjusts his hands on Luke’s hips, repositioning the both of them so that he can hit the spot each time. He’s relentless with his thrusts now, having seen Luke’s initial reaction, and the continuous pressure on his prostate has Luke shaking with how good it feels. 

Luke has to pull off of Michael’s cock to gasp, choking slightly at his huge intake of air. He drops to his forearms and hangs his head for a moment. He’s trying to wrap his mind around what he’s feeling right now—the tightness coiling in the pit of his stomach, the ache in his jaw that he absolutely _loves._ His cock is _aching_ , dripping onto the sheets below him, and Luke reaches a hand down underneath himself to wrap around it. The relief is instant, and he sighs out shakily in pleasure. 

Ashton groans then, deep and guttural with a desperate sound to it, a whine almost. Michael’s eyes are no longer on Luke after the sound leaves Ashton’s body, his gaze focused intently on the other man instead. Ashton meets his eyes and Michael nods a few seconds later, some kind of silent conversation obviously just having occurred between the two of them. Luke misses the interaction, forehead still resting on the sheets with his hand moving over his cock. 

He’s suddenly yanked upright by his hair, and it takes him a moment to register that it’s Ashton’s hand gripping his hair tightly, and Ashton’s arm wrapped around his stomach holding him up vertically instead of horizontally now. Michael crowds into his space, eyes flashing up at Ashton’s as the tiniest smirk crosses his face. He reaches for Luke’s dick and his fingers twist around the shaft, squeezing gently every now and then while his thumb rubs small, barely there circles across the slit. 

Ashton drags his lips up the side of Luke’s neck slowly, adding his tongue and teeth to the mix and drawing strangled gasps and moans from Luke’s mouth. Michael tilts his head and leans in to kiss the other side of Luke’s neck, and his eyes close of their own accord, an attempt made in vain to ground himself. Michael’s mouth is hot and wet on his skin and Ashton is a solid form behind him, strong arms holding Luke’s back to his hard chest. Both of their hands are running over his body, and the way they work so effortlessly together against him is incredible. Their fingers move in opposite directions, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake, unhurried even though Luke is hurtling closer and closer to his release.

He’s absolutely _gone_ , the breath knocked from his lungs with every one of their touches. He tries to tell them he’s close, warn them before he loses it, but it comes out as nothing more than a few garbled moans of their names. 

Michael chuckles against his neck, but he clearly knows what Luke means. 

“You gonna be a good boy and come for us, Lukey?” he whispers, all sultry right next to his ear, and Luke can’t take it any more. 

He curls in on himself, forehead dropping against Michael’s collarbone as he comes, his body shaking and muscles tensing. Both of them squeeze him gently, and Michael keeps stroking him through it, streaks of cum spilling out over his hand and both of their stomachs. Luke had been gripping Michael’s shoulders the entire time, nails digging into the skin unintentionally, but when he finally loosens them, there’s not a single mark on Michael’s skin. 

Ashton pulls out carefully and coaxes Luke to lift his head and lean back to rest it on his shoulder instead of on Michael. His slender neck is completely exposed, and with his eyes threatening to close in post-orgasm bliss, Luke misses the way Michael’s eyes flash dangerously at the sight. Luke breathes out deeply through his nose. He feels weightless, limbs limp and an airy feeling overtaking both his body and his mind. Ashton turns his head to kiss Luke’s trembling lips softly, and for some reason, it feels final. 

The air in the room has changed. A restlessness has settled over Michael and Ashton that Luke had taken no notice of before. 

“After you, Mike,” Ashton says lowly, anticipation underlying his words. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

Luke’s stomach churns. Something’s not right. 

Michael returns Ashton’s smirk and the left corner of his lips peel back to reveal a sight that Luke’s not sure he’s seeing correctly through the haze settled over him.

There, amongst the row of perfect teeth, is a canine tooth unlike any Luke has ever seen. The light glints off of it, highlighting it’s unnatural sharpness, and Luke’s blood runs cold when he realizes. 

It’s a fang. Michael has _fangs._

His first instinct is to get away from the man—from the _thing_ in front of him. Michael is definitely not human—but his tired limbs won’t listen to his pleas. Michael is too fast for him to have escaped anyway, nothing more than a blur as he rushes forward and sinks his teeth into Luke’s neck.

Luke’s previously hooded eyes shoot open in shock and, once the pain registers, pure _fear._ He gasps sharply, but it’s cut short, caught in his throat. He jerks violently, but Ashton’s arms around him are like the iron bars of a cage, and he can’t even _hope_ to move. 

Michael’s fangs are already embedded deep into his skin, and Ashton joins him in the next second. He hums quietly beside Luke’s ear, and this time, Luke actually feels it when the tip of Ashton’s fangs break through his skin. Fear and panic seize him, make him tense up, lose the ability to think clearly. 

Luke can feel his blood stirring inside him, feel it _leaving_ his body, and it fucking _terrifies_ him when he realizes. 

_They’re drinking his blood._

He cries out, loud and pleading, a shuddering sound in the dead silence of the room. He thrashes desperately in Ashton’s arms, but it’s no use. His mind, his body, his _everything_ , are in overdrive. The objects around the room are blurring as his eyes dart around frantically, white spots beginning to dance at the corners of his vision. His skin, which had previously been flushed red from exertion, is starting to pale significantly, and he can see it in his fingers where he’s still holding onto Michael’s shoulders. 

He tries to tear them both away from him, fingers clawing viciously at whatever skin he can reach. He pulls at their hair, pushes against them with every bit of strength he has left, but it doesn’t faze them in the slightest. He’s not strong enough. His body is weakening, rapidly, and he’s losing control of his limbs. 

His breath is coming short now, the oxygen no longer reaching his organs the way he needs it too. He whimpers as they feed from him, one last pathetic noise escaping his lips, a desperate, hopeless cry for help, before his eyes inevitably shut, and he goes completely still. 

His hands fall from Michael’s shoulders, but it’s another few minutes before Michael and Ashton are done with him. Michael is the first to lift his head away from Luke, glazed eyes catching sight of Ashton still feeding before he leans his head back and closes them, breathing in deep. 

His body is warm, full, Luke’s rich blood settling pleasantly in his system. One month is how long they’d gone without this, and now that his craving has _finally_ been satiated, Michael feels more than ecstatic. 

Ashton finishes a few seconds later, letting out a breath of pure satisfaction when he does. He runs his tongue across his teeth and meets Michael’s eyes with a similar haze. There’s a small bit of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, and Michael leans in to lick it away, tongue running over Ashton’s bottom lip slow and seductive. 

Ashton moves his hand to cup Michael’s jaw and pull him forward for a real kiss. It’s passionate yet unhurried, a slow and wet tangle of their tongues with the taste of Luke lingering in both their mouths. 

Ashton grips Michael tighter, tries to pull him forward to deepen the kiss, but Luke’s body is in the way. He pulls back and scowls slightly, pushing Luke unceremoniously off the bed to the floor. His body lands with a dull thud. Michael huffs a small laugh and eyes Ashton with a raised eyebrow, but Ashton just shrugs and reaches for him again. Michael climbs into Ashton’s lap, and after that, neither of them really notice, or care, about Luke’s corpse on their bedroom floor, eyes only for each other at the moment. 

They kiss for a few long minutes, hands tangling gently in each other’s hair before they pull away and rest their foreheads together, simply enjoying the state of comfort and content washing over them. Michael glances at the floor, and he can’t help the dark chuckle that escapes him next.

“You’re such a sick bastard. You always laugh after it’s done,” Ashton giggles quietly, fondly.

Michael just shrugs and smiles against Ashton’s mouth. Ashton leans forward to capture Michael’s lips in a passionate kiss, humming into it. 

“God, I fucking love you,” he groans, and then his hand disappears between Michael’s legs to pick up right where they left off. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! 
> 
> Come say hi to both of us on tumblr if ya want :) 
> 
> Megan: @mashlumtrash  
> Michelle: @lilacpages


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